


Lust On My Tongue

by LunarAsylum



Series: Royal Blood Series [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Celebrations, Drunk Sex, Drunken Flirting, M/M, Memories, Sam's Birthday
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-17
Updated: 2014-09-17
Packaged: 2018-02-17 19:43:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2321093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LunarAsylum/pseuds/LunarAsylum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam just needed a night out, away from the depressing atmosphere of an empty home. He thought he was just going out for a drink, but it ended up being so much more than that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lust On My Tongue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [In_Factorem_Verba](https://archiveofourown.org/users/In_Factorem_Verba/gifts).



> Here's a little ficlet of a Sammy having a little fun without Dean. Ohoho. And with who else but Cass?! I mean, it can't be any other way can it? 8D
> 
> -loser status-
> 
> Thankies to my lovely for my prompt. 
> 
> Prompt: Value, Originate, Tested

It was six years to the day that Sam had been alone, and he hated every sickening moment of it. Staring absentmindedly at the calendar in front of him, a big, red 'X' marked out May 1st signifying that it was now May 2nd and his birthday.

 

Heaving a dramatic sigh, he wondered why his job even insisted that he have the day off. It was nothing special and he'd rather be distracted than reminded of the fact that he was completely and utterly alone. Solitude was something of a tricky mistress; she was fun when you needed her, but dismal when you had her.

 

She liked to hang the glaring facts of your life at you in giant neon signs, pointing out all the wrongs and thrusting all the rights into the shadows that you wallowed in. Sam could 100% guarantee that he hated solitude with the passion of a thousand suns and then some. Tonight though, she had taken leave, letting his mind grip hold of an insane idea: to go out and actually celebrate his birthday.

 

Sam hadn't been out of the house aside from work or necessary shopping trips in the years since Dean had been sentenced to prison, but perhaps a little change of pace was all he needed to jog himself back into the steps of happiness. Realistically, he now had a shorter wait than he had already waited to have his brother back, and that should've been enough to put a smile on his face, but it wasn't.

 

That only increased the frown lines that were already shaping into his youthful skin. How did you welcome back someone who had been in prison for a decade because of you? Did you even attempt to? From what he understood though, even once Dean was released, they wouldn't be allowed to see each other for sometime. A friend of theirs, Garth, had been chatting back and forth for them, making it even more antagonizing when he came back with answers for Sam. It was enough of an update to make his life a little easier, but tantalizing enough to make him want to scream with frustration.

 

At that moment, his mind had made a decision without him, telling him that he was going to get dressed properly and go out that evening to drink away all the problems and dance away all the stress. Leaning back against the chair, he ran a hand through his hair, currently stressing over what exactly he would do once he left his house that evening.

 

It took him all five hours of his afternoon to cement his plans in his head, and that left him just enough time to shower and prepare himself for what was bound to be a very sweaty and smelly night. Around ten o' clock, he was out of the house and in his car, heading into town with his mind set on the bar he had established earlier. It took him some time to find a parking space, and even more time to parallel park there.

 

Giving an exasperated sigh, he finally made his way to the bar entrance, flashing his ID, since it was a 21+ joint, and he was admitted entrance. His eyes took a moment to adjust to the bright lights flashing around the room. Running a hand over his face, he sidled to the bar, finding an empty seat nestled between to boisterous groups of people. Grabbing the bartender's attention, he ordered himself a mixed drink, specifying that he wanted it heavy on the alcohol.

 

The woman gave him a hearty chuckle before disappearing to the other end of the bar, presumably to make his drink. Swiveling around on the stool, he peered out into the energetic crowd that pulsed with the beat of the overbearing dance music. It brought out his inner hermit, making him want to leave immediately, but he knew that if he did, he'd regret it later.

 

He heard a tap behind him, and swung back around to see a very large glass of liquor before him, and the woman waiting for her money. Pulling out his wallet, he forked over his credit card, with a few bucks in cash as her tip. Disappearing again, she went to run his card, returning with a receipt for him to sign as she gave him a coy smile.

 

“Thanks, Sweetheart,” she said as she tucked the bills into her cleavage with a wink, causing him to feel a minor discomfort in that. Lifting his drink to his mouth, he took a large drink of it, the sweetness and liquor hitting his taste buds with a bit of exhilaration. It didn't take him long to suck the entire drink down, and within a half hour, he had finished two and was starting a third. He hadn't though this through about getting home.

 

After an hour of sitting at the bar by himself, just observing the way the crowd seemed to endlessly change, both of the groups beside him were gone or on the floor, leaving him mostly alone at his side of the bar. That left the perfect opening for a man to plop down beside him, swaying a little with his own alcohol as he turned to the taller brunette.

 

“Heya, Sexy,” the man purred, giving him a wide, crooked grin that was oddly attractive. The man's obsidian hair was slicked back away from his face, stubble accentuating his features, which consisted of beautiful pale skin and shocking blue eyes. The eyes were what called Sam in.

 

“A bit forward, aren't you?” Sam said, his voice a little uneven and slurred. Clearly the alcohol was having more effect that he had first thought.

 

“Mm, I am, but it gets me what I want,” the shorter man said, crooked grin still in place, giving the younger man a feeling of comfort and attraction.

 

“Yeah? And what do you want?” he asked, leaning towards the other man so that he could hear him better. Blue eyes pierced into his soul, and it made him want to lean in and kiss the man then and there, but the raven-haired man was keeping his distance.

 

“Isn't it obvious?”

 

“You want a drunk pick-up in a bar?” Sam said, laughing slightly as he pulled himself back from him.

 

“If that's the way you'd like to describe yourself,” the man said, his grin only widening, leaving Sam wanting more of this fellow.

 

“I'd like to describe myself as taken and in love, but I don't think I can,” he responded, his heart falling a little as he remembered Dean.

 

“Oh? Why is that? Trouble at home?”

 

“More like trouble from years ago,” he said, finishing off his drink, and signaling the bartender who nodded at him and started making him another.

 

“Oh yeah? Why's it keeping you down now? You gotta live a little, drink a little, and fuck a lot,” he said, letting Sam hang off every single one of his words. The way he spoke was just tantalizing for him, alluring and sexual.

 

“Yeah? You willing to help me out with that?” the brunette asked, as he was presented with another drink, which he instantly gulped down half.

 

“I _want_ to help you out with that,” the other purred after leaning in right up to Sam's ear, biting on his ear lobe before pulling away. The younger man could feel the arousal begin to course through his body as he looked over the shorter man, his vision blurred, but still straight enough that he could tell this man was attractive, and he knew he was attractive.

 

“Carry on, then,” Sam replied, grinning drunkenly at the other, who allowed him to finish off his drink hurriedly and proceeded to drag him on to the floor. Heat instantly set into Sam's body as he was suddenly pressed against the other man. He felt other bodies brush against his, but nothing was quite as intimate as the shorter one that was flat against his back, hot breath flowing into his hair and over his neck as they let the music take over.

 

As the alcohol set into his bones and blood, things became hazy as he remembered being led away from the crowd, down a narrow passage that led to another section of the bar. It wasn't too long after that, that he was shoved up against a wall and a mouth was against his, hands wandering all over his body.

 

He groaned at the feeling of being touched again, his hands tousling the other's perfect hair as his mouth made trails across his shoulders and down his neck. Pale hands raised a t-shirt from skin, pushing it up until most of Sam's abdomen and chest were bare, the cool air only making him sweat more.

 

“Fucking hell,” he gasped as he felt a tongue against his chest, the other man's mouth working diligently to bring him pleasure. When he looked down, he was greeted with a perverse sight of the raven-haired man glancing up at him, saliva connecting his tongue to Sam's chest. With a growl, he tugged the man's head away from his chest and kissed him heatedly, their lips and tongues doing battle as his other arm pulled the man flat against him.

 

The feeling of foreign cloth against his skin only put him even more on edge, their breaths echoing lightly in the narrow hallway. The occasional groan or moan accentuated their lustful position, until Sam pulled away from him. Heavy breathing was all that was heard until the younger could work up the air to speak.

 

“Let's go back to your place and fuck,” he crooned at the other, a small sexual smile taking his lips as the older man smirked, tugging him back down the hall. Sam righted his shirt along the way, getting it down just in time to be dragged through the crowd, both of them drunkenly making their way to the exit and hailing a cab.

 

The ride to the other man's place was full of sloppy kisses and saliva drenching things that would otherwise be dry. Grunts and groans accompanied them on their way into the obsidian-haired man's home, and they didn't even make it to the bedroom as Sam was pushed back onto the couch, the other climbing over him, straddling him as he stripped his shirt.

 

“What's your name?” Sam asked, words slurred together as he stared up at the incredibly attractive man above him.

 

“Cass, and yours?”

 

“Sam,” he said before he was silenced, lips occupying his own as they sank into the throes of sex and heat, neither of them caring about the world, only themselves.


End file.
